


Philocalist

by whiffingbooks



Series: Eleusinian Mysteries (or the things untold) [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And an amazing boyfriend, Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Post-War, Returning Home, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Spell Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiffingbooks/pseuds/whiffingbooks
Summary: “What is the meaning of this?” Mr Granger splutters. “Why are you here? I seem to recall that we agreed to contact you when it was favourable to us.”“You know how many people died in the war?” He sounds calm, a contrast to how he feels inside. “And how many more would have died if not for your daughter’s contributions?”(Or how Ron defended Hermione against her family.)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Eleusinian Mysteries (or the things untold) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1404529
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Philocalist

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys!
> 
> I am exhausted and uninspired right now, so writing has taken a backseat. This fic is a result of not getting a decent amount of sleep. I'm so sorry for the slow updates but thank you so much for still reading my writing. I will try to post regularly but no promises! 
> 
> Enjoy this fic, and if you have anything to say, ask me on https://whiffingbooks.tumblr.com/.  
> Peace out!

Ron feels helpless, watching Hermione succumb to her tears. She hunches her shoulders to make herself smaller, not at all like the confident, stoic woman who had stood silent as her family yelled and wounded her. The motel bed, which had looked tiny in the morning, now seems like an enormous ocean swallowing up her frame.

He swallows the lump of anger and carefully sits down next to her trembling body.

“Hermione”, he gently caresses her hair, the way his mum used to do whenever he spotted a spider and hid under the blankets.

“I-“ she hiccups, “I knew they were going to be mad. But I never”, hiccup, “never thought they’ll hate me!” Suddenly, her eyes widen and she sits up. “What if they never forgave me, Ron?”

“I’m sure they will”, he tries to calm her down, but Hermione is inconsolable.

“But what if they don’t?” She bounces up from the bed and starts pacing so fast that he feels dizzy. “What if they tell me that their childless life is better in Australia? What if they refuse to move back to England?”

She looks up at him with a horrified expression and shrieks, “ _ What if they cut off all ties with me? _ ”

_ That’s enough _ , Ron decides as he shoots out of the bed and gathers her in his chest. She’s still sobbing, but her energy is dissipating rapidly. He knows that she will now go to bed and stare at the wall for the next few hours with a blankness that he has become terrified of.

“Why don’t you go and take a nap? You’re exhausted, and I think a break will help you recuperate. I’ll make you a cuppa.” He gently puts her on the bed and rushes into their kitchen. The guilt of what he’s about to do is already weighing down on him. But he has played the part of a dutiful boyfriend silently but in vain. The Grangers had looked at them in distrust and yelled things that no child should ever hear from their parents. Hermione will let them continue their tirade to repent for her actions, but he can’t. Not anymore.

He prepares the tea slowly so that she doesn’t get a whiff of what he’s about to do. The Dreamless Sleep Potion is odourless and colourless and thus, mixes with the tea flawlessly. Satisfied with his achievement, he returns to the bedroom only to find Hermione rummaging through her bag in a frenzy. Her hair looks as frizzy as it does when she’s researching something crucial.

“Hermione? What are you doing?”

“I brought a few things with me to jog up their memory. They’re very ordinary, but I read once that these small things are the greatest ways of remembrance. If they see that I kept these, then they will forgive me. Won’t they?” Her eyes darts around in a manner reminiscent of a lost child. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he hands over the cup. Unsuspectfully, she grabs the handle and chucks it down in one go.

“Why don’t you take a nap? We need vegetables. I was going to head over to that market and get us some.” Hermione suddenly drops the cup. Her body starts to sway, her eyes blinking at him drowsily. He hooks his hand under her leg and lifts her up, ignoring the way she snuggles up to him. As he lays her down on the bed, she tries to tug him close before her hand falls limply by her side.

“I hope you don’t kill me for this,” he sighs before grabbing his coat and apparating.

* * *

  
  


Later, if asked, Ron can’t recall what exactly happened.

He remembers knocking on the door and entering, even before Mr Granger can utter a word. His indignation swells when he notices Mrs Granger going through the photo album Hermione had left behind to jog up their memory. His mind flashes to his mum, sitting at the dining table and going through the family album with watery eyes, ready to give up so many things for the son that won’t ever return. He might have felt sympathy, at first, he did, but that vanished with the image of his mother. Mrs Granger has a living, breathing daughter who loves her without a shadow of a doubt, but she is intentionally sacrificing her slowly yet effectively.

“What is the meaning of this?” Mr Granger splutters. “Why are you here? I seem to recall that we agreed to contact you when it was favourable to us.”

“You know how many people died in the war?” He sounds calm, a contrast to how he feels inside. “And how many more would have died if not for your daughter’s contributions?”

Mrs Granger gets up from her chair and advances towards him with an expression quite similar to Hermione. “ _ Don’t you dare justify Hermione’s actions!  _ Do you think we wouldn’t have let her go? After all those years with her barely staying at home because the Wizarding World needed her? After watching her spend more time with strangers than her own parents? We have done everything we can to keep her happy, and in return what do we get? Our lives uprooted because we weren’t even given the choice!  _ Our own daughter! _ ”

“I’m not asking you to forgive her. You’re entitled to your feelings and if you can never forget this incident, then so be it. But you don’t get to tell her that what she did wasn’t right. You don’t know what was happening. You don’t know the extents to which we all went to protect our loved ones. Being right and wrong didn’t matter as long as everyone was safe.” 

“Not asking to for-I’m sorry, but I’m very confused,” Mr Granger gently guides his wife back to her sit where she buries her face with her hands. He looks up quizzically, his face not displaying any anger, just weariness. “If you’re not asking us to forgive her, then what are you asking? What else can we possibly do?”

“Listen to her,” Ron suddenly feels fatigued and a strong desire to climb into the bed with Hermione. “She will explain everything to you. But she can only do that when you listen to her without spewing accusations at her face. Then, you can decide what do you intend to do.”

A silence falls over the three of them. He can see the Grangers contemplating his words. Finally, Mrs Granger curtly nods at him in acquiescence. Relief courses through his body at her answer and without further ado, he turns to apparate when a voice calls out.

“Was she okay? Did anyone hurt my daughter?” Mrs Granger’s broken voice clogs up his throat. His mother is doing better now, all of the letters have said that. How many times did she worry about him being hurt for all those years? How many times did she fear that news of his death will reach her any moment? A sharp sense of longing shoots up inside him at the thought of home, away from this strange land.

“You need to talk to her, Mrs Granger.” From his solemn tone, she can guess the answer as she starts sobbing and her husband holds onto her without trying to control his own silent tears. Ron turns and apparates, aching to get back to the motel as fast as he can.

  
  


* * *

“They’re shifting back to London!” Hermione announces the moment she enters the motel. At first, he used to accompany her to the meetings, but he could understand the need for family time and excused himself.

“Bloody hell! That’s brilliant!” He leaves the onions he was dicing to hug her. “When?”

“This week! They have to wrap up their practices and do everything that needs to be done first. Then they’ll move!” He can’t resist her shining eyes so he kisses her firmly. Just as she starts to tangle her arms in his hair, he moves away.

“Wait! Let me send Harry a letter. He would want to hear about how everything went. I bet you that Mum will start planning a homecoming party the moment she hears the news. We’ll be back by Harry’s birthday, so I was thinking we can give him a joint gift. The new dragon hide gloves that I noticed in the Quidditch store are quite stunning.”

“I can’t believe you left me mid-snog to write a letter to Harry.” Her amused expression speeds up his heart.

“Well, someone needs to keep him in the loop. And I believe he prefers my letters to yours.” He grins at her rolling eyes before sitting down with a blank parchment and quill.

“I may as well take a bath,” the sound of clothes being rummaged can be heard. “Oh, and I almost forgot, thank you.” 

Ron looks up at her confused. She looks ethereal, wrapped in a short towel and smiling at him.

“What for?” 

“For talking my parents into giving me a chance.” He must have shown his panic because Hermione hastened to reassure him. “They didn’t tell me. But I knew from the moment they sat me down and asked me to tell them everything without leaving anything out.”

“How?” His mouth almost doesn’t work, but he forces out the word.

“Ron, Dreamless Sleep Potion doesn’t make you forget what you were talking about before falling asleep. Also, you didn’t bring home any vegetables and we had the leftover chicken.”

“Bollocks, I knew I was forgetting something.” He grumbles and looks up at her. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad? No, not at all. In fact, I am very pleased with you right now,” she throws him a significant look which leaves him breathless, “I was going to invite you to the shower with me but if you’re going to write to Harry now, well…”

He jumps up from the chair in such a haste that he almost sends it crashing down. “Harry can fucking wait. I’ll write to him later. Besides, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t prefer writing letters to snogging my sister and whatnot, ugh. For now, let me take you up on the offer.” Hermione giggles as she tugs him behind her to the bathroom.

He will write a letter  _ much  _ later. 

  
  
  



End file.
